


can i be close to you?

by greasydenbrough



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, bill listens to the smiths thats all, they're not like.. official but theyre not just friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greasydenbrough/pseuds/greasydenbrough
Summary: Stan has gone three years, six months, and five days without talking about what happened in the sewers.





	can i be close to you?

Three years, five months, and twelve days. It had been three years, five months, and twelve days since the loser’s club defeated Pennywise. Stanley Uris remembered that. It wasn’t as much that he wanted to, but he couldn’t forget that day, despite his efforts in forgetting any of it happened. 

At first, it felt unreal. Acceptance to such a concept wasn’t something Stan would do. For one It didn’t make sense, and that was enough for the losers to think that Stan thought. But he was terrified of It, and admitting that would mean he thought It was real, and he would never do either of those. Admitting his fear, to him, meant admitting defeat at the first sign of danger he faced. Waking up every morning, he felt a brutal reminder of that damn clown and the lady with the flute. The ring of scars around his face were an unavoidable reminder of his own past, and all the feelings never shared from that summer. 

Pulling a sweater over his head, he felt the fabric against the scars surrounding his face, giving his the gentle reminder of being abandoned by his friends. While slipping his arms into the sleeves, fabric brushed against scars reminding him of the isolation he felt in the time after. No matter how good of a mood Stanley Uris woke up in, the good feeling couldn’t seem to stick with him after that. 

On that particular day, however, Derry High School had been on February break, and Stan been able to hang out with the losers the entire time, having gone five days since he had last seen any of them. He missed being around all of them as a group, and as individual friends who he loves. He missed hearing Mike talk about the farm, and his dog, whenever Stan prompted and felt like he needed something to cheer him up like seeing one of him best friends light up like Mike would. Mike had the ability to make himself someone’s home. 

He already felt himself missing studying with Ben in the library, bringing snacks for them to share, and having each other’s studying routines and schedule memorized for so long neither of them need to think about what the other is going to work on. Their bond was one that he couldn’t describe as anything but clean. They didn’t mess around when together, and they never fought about anything.

He missed letting himself goof around at lunch with Beverly, seeing that was the only time during the day he knew for certain he would see her, making Stan’s mind try a little harder to have fun during the half hour they got to see each other. She could always get him to have a little more fun, care a little less when they were together. 

He missed Eddie’s worry about Stan. It wasn’t as often, as Stan tried not to let his friends know enough to feel worry for him, but there was a level of comfort knowing someone cares enough to worry about the little things in your life. He would never tell Eddie how parental the action felt, because Eddie wouldn’t like it, but the comfort in the actions warmed Stan’s heart.

Missing Richie Tozier wasn’t something Stan would say out loud, but he missed the jokes his best friend made, along with the voices Stan always rolled his eyes and laughed at. Their understanding of each other like no other friendship he had with anyone, and they both noticed their understanding of each other, while being so different. And last, but most clearly not least, Stan missed Bill. 

He missed the smaller things between them, like sharing his sandwich with Bill, who never learned how to make a good lunch or shop for groceries after his parent’s shut themselves away. Stan missed helping Bill study French and getting to hear him speak the language without any faults or signs of a stutter, or hiding out in the library during their study hall period and trying to help Bill understand chemistry, which he was truly horrible at. Alongside that, he missed the comfort Bill brought. The warmth that came along with his presence, and the kisses they shared, but never labeled, sneaking around their friends, along with the whole world. Standing a little too close, holding hands for a little too long, Stan was feeling himself miss everything about Bill, more so than his other friends. 

Missing all his friends didn’t do Stan any good. He had avoided long periods of alone time after the encounter with Pennywise. The time he spent separated from his friends would only make him think, and remember hid trauma, making more little scars along his arms when he couldn’t deal with it all at once. Luckily for Stan, however, despite his own feelings consuming him, had planned to stay over at Bill’s house for the night a few weeks ago. 

Entering Bill’s house without knocking was considered the norm for the losers, as Bill’s parents didn’t care what happened in their house, and Bill always considered them welcome in his house. Stan remembered Bill saying that his house wasn’t a home without the loser’s keeping him company, only the memory of a family to keep him company. 

There was a draft in the living room, the lights and curtains not allowing any light inside. He couldn’t tell if Sharon and Zach were home, but he knew if they were, it wouldn’t matter. Stepping up the stairs to Bill’s room, he could hear a record playing faintly. He recognized it to be by The Smiths, “There is a Light and it Never Goes Out”. The song was one of Bill’s favorites, and he and the rest of their friends all pitched in to buy the album it was on on vinyl for him during Christmas season. With a light knock, Stan opened the door, smiling when he saw Bill at his desk, typing away at some story he’d thought of on his typewriter. The noises of the typewriter, and the music playing absentmindedly in the back reminded Stan of how lonely and quiet Bill’s life was when he wasn’t with his friends, which Stan could fully understand.

“Just g-gimme a s-s-second, I’m a-almost done this p-paragraph.” Bill typed the rest of what he thought as Stan moved to sit on his bed, laying down after hearing Bill type more and more. The song ended, going on to Some Girls are Bigger Than Others, the last song of the album Bill loved. Stan knew Bill had probably been writing since last night, forgetting about sleep and staying up, only moving out of his spot to change the album or play it again. The sound of Bill typing stopped, Bill sighing as he stood up, feeling his body move for the first time in a while. He smiled over at Stan, blowing some of his hair away from his face. Stan moved closer to the wall for Bill to lay down with him, which he happily did, laying shoulder-to-shoulder with Stan. “I-I missed you, I f-feel like i-i-its been a long time.” Bill turned to look at Stan, finding Stan’s eyes already on him. They both smiled at each other, finding it natural for them to be so close. Hesitating for a second, Bill leaned over to kiss Stan slowly, missing the feeling of their lips connecting after having been away from him for too long. The feeling wasn’t new to either of them, but it still felt the same as the first time. After a second Bill pulled away, a soft smile resting on his face. Stan found Bill’s smile to be one of the most stunning things he’d seen, making a smile evident on his face as well. Both of the boys moods were in a better place than they had been at the start of the day, or even compared to when Stan walked in, just by a simple action like a kiss. And as much as Stan wished it could, he knew the mood shift from earlier couldn’t last him all day, even with Bill around him. 

Stan enjoyed hanging out with Bill like they did. Bill and him would talk, lying close together, and he was content with it for the most part. The comfortable small talk filled their ears as well as filled the loneliness they had both been plagued with all throughout their time away from their friends. The sweater he wore continuously scratched against his arms, making him cringe at the feeling against his scars. Stan didn’t notice his constant movement, which vastly differed from how he normalls was. 

“S-Stan, are yuh-you okay? You seem k-kind of t-tense.” Bill’s tone was gentle, and his movement to hold Stan’s hand was as well. Stan pulled his hand away from Bill’s too quickly, making his own eyes widen in shock of what he had done. It was such a simple gesture on Bill’s part, they have held hands an eternity of times, but all Stan could think was he knows he knows he knows until he managed to process what Bill asked him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I’m fine.” His voice came out weak, like he’d exhausted himself and wanted to rest again. 

“B-b-bullshit. What’s b-bugging you?” Bill reached over again, trying to see Stan as he’d turned away. “I know y-you miss the losers, b-b-but we’ll s-see everyone tomorrow, r-remember? We’ve only g-got one m-more day awuh-wuh-way from them.” Stan felt his own chest starting to rise and fall with less ease, feeling weight on it inside him. He thought it might be the weight of everything he had been hiding from everyone, crushing him with the guilt and shame he felt. 

“What about next time?” Speaking felt even heavier, but he knew he couldn’t stay silent forever, and he couldn’t keep this burden on his lungs any longer. “What about the next time I can’t see you guys, or the next time you leave me alone? Remember Neibolt? That fucking clown? What if there’s no fucking next time.” His chest felt heavier with every word, but his brain cleared up more he spoke. “You don’t know the shit that happened to me, Bill. You remember the lady with the flute? The one who ate my face? Do you know how scared I was that I was going to die? That the last memory I would have would be of some demon   
eating me in a fucking sewer all alone? I’ve never been so damn scared of being alone.” Stan didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face until they started to land on his neck.

Stan hadn’t seen Bill look so heartbroken since that year, when his own brother went missing. He felt that maybe he snapped, he’d talked too much, he should’ve put it all in the past when it happened and not have to worry about it three years later while trying to have a good day. Bill tried to reach to hold Stan’s hand again, which Stan lightly accepted, barely grasping onto him, internalizing his fear even farther without realizing it. 

“I d-didn’t w-want to p-push you to t-talk right after It h-h-happened. We were a-a-all n-nervous you didn’t want to t-t-talk about it, and wanted to w-wait on you to b-b-be ready.” Stan couldn’t feel the words instantly calming all his nerves and magically solving his issues, he felt comfort in them nonetheless. “I cuh-cuh-care about you, so muh-muh-much, I d-didn’t know it was that h-h-horrible.” Bill looked at Stan’s hands, the hands he was holding, seeing scars peeking out from his sleeves. Bill couldn’t bring himself to saying anything, feeling Stan’s tiredness radiating off of him. “H-Hey, I love you, okay?” Bill tried to remind him, smiling gently at Stan as to meet him where he is. Stan can only offer a weak smile back, more for Bill’s sake than his own. 

“Can we just… I’m so damn tired.” Stan already is pulling himself under Bill’s comforter when he started talking, gently pulling Bill’s hands over to make sure he knew that he wanted to stay close anc cuddle up to him. Bill followed along, pulling the blankets over him, turning to face Stanley’s back and wrap his arms around him. Stan sighed to himself as Bill did so, holding his hands as they spooned. All the pressure previously trying to collapse Stan’s chest had left him, feeling like he could breathe for the first time in years. It wasn’t a full breath, somewhat shallow and hard to keep in his lungs, he didn’t feel the burden he’d been hiding for so long plaguing him anymore. With Bill close by to keep him feeling secured, he felt less of a reminder that It happened, and told himself for the first time that you made it.

**Author's Note:**

> pls follow my tumblr @b-b-billdenbrough because i'm working on posting my writing there too ! i hope u liked it ! this is high key my first time writing them but u live u learn


End file.
